


offroads

by staticbees



Category: Alice Isn't Dead (Podcast), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/F, old fic from 2017 that i never continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:47:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17929586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticbees/pseuds/staticbees
Summary: Keisha drives through an unsettling town.





	offroads

I’ve finally reached civilization, Alice. Well, hopefully.

 

_ The radio crackles. _

 

I’ve been driving through the desert for a few hours now. I’m not sure how far away from civilization I am. It feels like forever since I’ve had fresh coffee.

 

You know how a while back, I talked about how there are different types of desert? This is desert that  _ is _ something, desert that has form and mass and shape, dunes of sand looming over my  truck like monstrous horrors from some H.P Lovecraft book.

 

The stars are bright tonight. I tried to find constellations I recognized earlier, but out here, everything is different. Looks strange, too, like I’m on a whole other planet.

 

The sand stretches to the horizon, and the night sky is vast and empty, save for a few scattered stars. The moon is like a jagged cut in the sky, a knife-slash rip in reality, swift and merciless.

 

_. . . _

 

You know, Alice, the longer I’ve been driving, the more morbid my comparisons get. I'll chalk that one up to sleep deprivation. Coffee can't solve all my problems, I guess.

 

_ There’s a burst of white noise. Another station bleeds through, a monotone female voice listing off numbers, before fading back into static. _

 

Night Vale. That's what the town is called.

 

_ The radio hums. There is a long buzz. _

 

There aren’t many radio stations out here. Most are just static, or garbled music, or distorted howling like wind through a tunnel. One station, WZZZ, just spouted numbers.

 

The local station isn’t much better.

 

_ The radio pops and crackles. There is a low drone, like the buzzing of hundreds of bees. _

 

Night Vale is… unsettling.

 

_ A short burst of static. _

 

When I first pulled into town, I stopped at the Moonlight All-Nite Diner.

 

It was one of those nostalgic train-car diners, with the old fashioned counters and booths, and worn wooden countertops. You know the type, Alice.

 

I remember that you used to take me to that old diner near the water for breakfast, on weekends. It was warm and cozy, and smelled like sugar and oatmeal. We'd get omelettes and coffee, and laugh about how the lobstermen always came up from the pier smelling like fish. You always did love that place. Reminded you of home, I guess.

 

. . .

 

I miss those days, Alice. Before you grew more distant, more detached from the world around you. Before you left. Before the grief, the worry, the endless sleepless nights spent wondering  _ what happened to you.  _ I-

 

_ The radio cuts out. There is a low hum of crackling static. _

 

As soon as I entered the diner, Alice, everyone’s heads turned towards me, eyes boring into my back as I walked. They began to whisper, their cupped hands and resentful muttering making it obvious that they wanted me to hear.  _ Interloper. Outsider.  _ I’m not wanted here, Alice. I can tell.

 

I decided I’d get food somewhere else instead.

 

Before I left, I caught a glimpse under the hoodie of one of the locals, face hidden in shadows. He had three eyes, Alice, and a crooked mouth that showed pointed teeth, glinting in the harsh florescent lights of the diner. He glared at me until I left, with narrowed eyes and clenched fists.

 

I’m not sure what he was, Alice, but he definitely wasn’t human. I don’t think anyone in this town is human. Not anymore.

 

. . .

 

Anyway. I stopped at the local market instead, and bought a sandwich. I’m not sure what kind of meat was in it, but it didn’t taste half bad, and at this point I don’t think I can afford to care.

 

_ The radio whines. There’s static, and then a dull thud. Her voice wavers slightly as she speaks. _

 

They’re throwing stones at my car, and chanting something outside my window.

 

I’m getting out of here.

 

_ There’s the growl of an engine starting, and a car peeling out of a parking space, tires screeching in protest. _

 

Thank god, they moved aside to let me pass.

 

_ There’s a crackle of static. When she next speaks, her voice is a hushed whisper, faint and trembling. _

 

There’s something outside, Alice.

 

A dark planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. It looms over me and blocks out the sky, all deep, turbulent seas, jagged mountains and thick, tangled forests. I can feel a deep sense of dread, like a knot of heavy, frayed rope curling in my stomach. 

 

Something big is happening, Alice, I know it. And I think you do too.

 

_ A burst of white noise. _

  
I saw you on TV again the other day.

 

The camera panned over a crowd that had gathered for some celebrity's funeral, and there you were, Alice, clear as day. You were staring at the screen. I think you knew you were being filmed. Knew I was looking for you.

 

I don't know why you're doing this, Alice. I don't know how. There one moment, gone the next. But I'm going to find you.

 

. . .

 

Time is weird, Alice. So is space. I hope ours match again someday.


End file.
